Saturday, February 9, 2013

No Use Trying to Write

Sometimes, old family letters introduce more questions than
they answer. And if one is really lucky, an unsolvable mystery may be thrown in
as an added bonus.

Such is the case with this last segment of Ella Shields Bean’s
letter home to her father, William James Shields in Fresno, California.
It’s not just because the letter leaves me wondering what was written on the
missing second page. The details that were
included are so unexpected that I have no clue how to connect these dots to the
larger family picture.

Since Lillian was not quite on my genealogical radar at this
point, I took a moment to check out what could be found online for her. As far as I
can see at this point, the couple had four children, with the oldest—Hazel Alice—having
a date of birth with as many variations provided as documents I’ve been able to
find.

Despite the temptation to be lured down that bunny trail, I’ve
withstood that bright, shiny decoy because of another discovery: according to
the United States census closest
to the date of this letter, Lillie and George had moved their young family far
from Fresno to northern California.

The location of their new home may shed some light on a
summertime photo I had posted a while back of young Leona and the twins at the Noyo River
in Mendocino County. For that is exactly the place
where Ella’s sister and her husband were residing at the time of the 1900 census.

One mystery cleared up—just in time for another mystery. I
have no idea who the “Bill” is that was involved in a court case Ella mentions
as she wraps up this letter to her father.

If that weren’t enough, the letter just dribbles off the end
of the page. There is no second page.
But, as Ella mentioned, Leona has just awakened from her nap, and there is just
“no use trying to write while she is around.”

End of letter. Even if there was a second page.

How is Lillie and babies, and what
are they going to do? It will soon be Thanksgiving again where are you going to
eat turkey this year. We are going to be alone and have duck. You had better
come and take dinner with us. We had a fine rain last night and this forenoon
and I guess it is not over yet. I am ever so much obliged to you for sending
that plush. By the way I got a package of Fresno
papers out of the office last week that was sent me in 1891, the time Bill was
having his trial about cheating the coppiest’s out of their saleries. Well
Leona is waking up so I must stop as there is no use trying to write while she
is around.

Grant, those letters certainly can send you on a merry chase, can't they? But you are finding out such interesting details from your letters, even if they are putting you through your paces.

I like the fact that details in the letters can open our eyes to possibilities that we hadn't yet considered in our research. Blips on the radar, such as the mention of a previously-unknown name, can lead us to a gold mine of information, if we can connect those pinpoints in the letter with the dots in other documents.

You certainly have had your fair share of great leads in the letters you are working on for your blog, Grant!

Well...before I do that, I'll have to figure out who "Bill" was. That Bill pre-dates my Bill Bean, who wasn't even born yet, at the time of this letter. Since Ella didn't have any brothers by the name of Bill (that I know of), unless her father or mother had a brother by that name, I'm clueless who this Fresno "Bill" might be.

Maybe someday, I'll stumble across another hint--and then the chase will be on!

About Me

It is my contention that, after a lifetime, one of the greatest needs people have is to be remembered. They want to know: have I made a difference?
I write because I can't keep for myself the gifts others have entrusted to me. Through what I've already been given--though not forgetting those to whom I must pass this along--from family I receive my heritage; through family I leave a legacy. With family I weave a tapestry. These are my strands.